The Bet
by Sahara Storm
Summary: [In Progress, RaiKim] Clay makes a friendly bet with Raimundo, with interesting conditions and consequences. Kiss stealing, anyone?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Bet

**Part: **1/5

**Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown.

**Pairing:** Raimundo/Kimiko

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **1,903

**Summary/Description:** Clay makes a friendly bet with Raimundo, with interesting conditions and consequences. Kiss-stealing, anyone?

**Warning/Spoilers:** No warnings. Takes place early in the show, before they become Wudai Warriors, because, well, that's when I wrote it. So, no spoilers, either.

**A/N: **Hey everyone. This is a RaiKimi short-fic that'll probably have about five chapters. I've got chapter two and part of chapter three written up, but that's it. I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to update. We'll see.

**Disclaimer:** Christy Hui is the proud and fortunate owner of _Xiaolin Showdown_; I am not.

* * *

"I must say, Raimundo, your performance in the Showdown today was _most_ impressive," praised Omi as the four Dragons in training slid off of Dojo's back. "I could not have done it better myself." The small Chinese boy paused, seeming to take that point into consideration. "Well, maybe I could have, but nonetheless, you certainly mopped the ground with Jack Spicer's buttocks!"

Kimiko giggled, and Rai rolled his eyes.

"That's _wipe_ the _floor_, little man," he said, patting Omi's head.

"That too!" the monk chirped.

The large green dragon shrunk back to normal size and slithered up Clay's back to hitch a ride on his shoulders. Just as the four teens reached the entrance of the Main Temple, their sensei walked out, hands clasped behind his back, his features ensconced in that ubiquitous, serious serenity.

"Ah, young monks. You have returned. Were you successful in retrieving the Hand of Hiko?"

"Sure thing, Master Fung," Clay drawled. "Rai here gave that Jack Spicer a good ol' fashioned Xiaolin butt-kickin'. Won us the Ring o' Nine Dragons, too."

"Ah?" The old man titled his head, looking pleased. "Very good, Raimundo."

The Brazilian shrugged it off.

"Yeah. I know. I rule," he said, with more than a little arrogance. He pulled the newest Shen Gong Wu out of his pocket. The Hand of Hiko was actually a glove; silver, with gems at the wrist and delicate runes running all over the fingers. When one slipped on the glove, it melded to the skin, forming a solid silver hand. When the Hand of Hiko, in its activated form, touched anyone, they were obligated to tell the absolute truth about whatever was asked of them.

"You have obtained a very useful Shen Gong Wu, Apprentices," Master Fung said, taking the mystical object from Rai. "You have earned yourself the rest of the afternoon off."

The monks hooted and cheered.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, kids," the green dragon said as he slid off of Clay's shoulder and followed Master Fung into the Temple. "My lower scales are itching, and a couple of boils have formed in unpleasant places. That can mean a lot of things, one of which being that a new Shen Gong Wu is about to reveal itself."

"'Kay, Dojo," Kimiko said. "We'll keep that in mind. But really, too much info," she added, her features twisting in distaste.

The four children were then left to decide what they were going to do with the rest of their afternoon. Though the showdown had been relatively easy, it had been tiring, what with the stifling heat and practically impassability of the African jungle they'd had to trek through to get to the Wu. After all that, they wanted nothing more than to enjoy a relaxing, evil-yet-inept-duo-bent-on-world-domination-less afternoon. Even Omi wasn't as frenetically primed as he usually was to run and jump and kick.

"I dunno 'bout 'chall, but I'm gonna have me a nice relaxin' walk," Clay said, taking his hat off and fanning himself with it.

Rai shrugged.

"I'll come with you. I need to get in some football training. I haven't practised in a while, and I think I might be getting rusty."

"Oh yes, Raimundo. You said that you would show me some of your irate skills."

Before anyone could correct Omi, Kimiko piped up.

"I'll pass on this one guys. I have to go e-mail Keiko. See you guys later." She walked off, already pulling out her cell phone. They waved goodbye to her rescinding back.

Fifteen minutes later saw Clay beneath a large tree, hat off, reclining in its shade. Not too far away, Raimundo and Omi were squared off. The former was standing in front of a makeshift goal, and the latter was shifting the football between his two little legs.

"Come on, Omi," Rai urged. "Gimme your best shot." A roguish light glinted in his eyes. "Not that even your best shot could get past me." He smirked, knowing that that small barb would get Omi to do his best.

The small boy 'humph'-ed, and with a powerful swing of his little leg, sent the white ball spinning towards the left side of the goal. Raimundo lunged, but missed grasping the ball by a bare inch. It shot past him.

"Ah ha!" Omi cried triumphantly, pumping a fist into the air, a bright smile lighting up his face. Laughing, Rai pushed the ball under his arm and walked up the give his friend a hi-five.

"Yes. Now that I have mastered the art of football," the young monk chatted as they walked over to Clay, "I have only to conquer roping and videogames! Ah ha! I am truly… as you say… super-fly, eh?!"

Lifting the hat from over his eyes, the cowboy laughed a little at the Chinese boy's exuberance.

"Oh, yeah, speaking of video games, that reminds me," Rai said as he settled against the tree trunk. "_Goo Zombies **4**_ has come out. Man, I need to get my hands on that."

"Won't that be pretty expensive, since it's just come out?" Clay enquired.

"Yeah," he sighed. "And I'm dead broke."

He slumped despondently for a few minutes, twisting his moue to the side, thinking. Soon, however, his eyes lit up with an idea. He sidled his eyes slyly to the Dragons of Earth and Water, smirking lightly. "Hey, dudes, how about you guys lend me the money?" He shrugged his eyebrows persuasively.

Clay laughed incredulously.

"Don't think so Rai," he said, shaking his head. "I invest my money wisely, and you my friend, are _not_ a wise investment."

"I am thinking that I must agree with Clay on this one, Raimundo," Omi said, scratching his head.

"Aww, come on, guys," the Brazilian remonstrated. "You know I'd pay you back. Come on, I really want this game. No… I _need_ it."

"Hmm." Clay rubbed his chin in deliberation. "What do I get out of this here deal?"

"Erm… the satisfaction of helping a friend in need?" Raimundo tried, smiling uncertainly.

Clay laughed once more, a rumbling sound, and shook his head.

"Again. Don't think so Rai."

The brunet put on his best pleading face – and his best was pretty darn good. The blond sighed, and wiped the hair out of his eyes.

"Alright. Tell ya what, partner. How 'bout we make a friendly bet?"

Rai turned to face him better, arching a brow and folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm listening." Omi, who had been practicing kicks and jumps and punches absently in the air, stopped to do so also.

"I'll buy you your little videogame, if you can…" He trailed off, considering.

"Yeah, yeah," Raimundo urged him.

Clay smirked.

"Steal a kiss from our girl Kimiko."

Omi blanched, and Raimundo drew his head back in surprise.

"Kimiko? Hmm…" He mulled on that one, biting thoughtfully on his lip. Steal a kiss from the Dragon of Fire, aye. He didn't know how he felt about that one. His feelings for the raven-haired techie were decidedly mixed. In some ways, she was like a little sister; he got a rise out of annoying her, and in turn she could be grating on his nerves at times. Connected with that whole notion of family, he sometimes got this almost scary determination to protect her – not that she needed it most of the time.

However, what was definitely _not_ 'little' about her was that right hook. The girl could hit _hard_. And what certainly wasn't even _close_ to sisterly was how he never failed to notice – with no small amount of begrudging – how cute she looked, unfailingly, each day, in every outfit, with every wild hairstyle. Nothing fraternal about _that_.

He was brooding over how much he _really_ wanted Goo Zombies when Omi interrupted his train of thought.

"I am sorry Raimundo, but I am afraid I cannot let you accept this dare."

A thick black brow went up into an arc.

"Why not?" He wasn't sure he was going to take Clay up on his offer, but he wanted to know the little guy's reason for being against the whole thing.

"It would be _most_ dishonourable… Even though it would probably feel very, very nice." The round face flamed red, probably reminiscing on the times he had been graced with kisses and hugs. He snapped out of it presently. "Nonetheless, Kimiko would not be very pleased. In fact, I am not even sure that you can give those things back once you steal them!"

In lieu of chuckling at Omi, Rai turned to the Westerner.

"I think I'll have to pass on that Clay. I'm with Omi. Not that it wouldn't be challenging – " _and enjoyable_, he didn't add, " – but girls are touchy about those types of things. And besides, you know Kim. She'd probably punch me into a wall by the time I puckered up."

The cowboy shrugged, and pulled his hat back over his eyes, his hands stacking themselves behind his head.

"Okay, partner. Suit yourself."

"Aww, c'mon, Clay. Maybe you could just alter it a bit…"

"Raimundo, my friend. Perhaps you and _I_ could make a deal." Rai looked down at the Dragon of Water, who was grinning widely. He looked remarkably like a used car salesman. "How about… I challenge you to a match? No Shen Gong Wu; just two warriors testing their martial arts skills in a battle of fortitude and expertise. If you win, _I_ shall provide the funds for the game."

Raimundo's eyebrows shot into his hair, his hazy green eyes cloudy with scepticism. Did Omi even have the money?

"I think I'll pass," he said.

Omi nodded kindly, and patted the taller boy's leg.

"I understand Raimundo. I would not want to fight me either. It would be _most_ degrading on your part. Of course, I do not know what it feels like to suffer humiliating defeat like you do, but I can imagine why you would want to shy away from it so fervently."

His kindly-said, yet incredibly supercilious words were rewarded with a tetchy scowl.

"Dude, get off your ego trip already." He batted the little boy's hand away from his leg. "Anyway Clay, isn't there anything else?" He was edging closer and closer to pleading.

The hat was removed, and the lone blue eye peered up at him pensively. Presently, the cowboy sat up.

"Okay, Rai."

"Yes!"

"But the stakes are gonna be higher this time," the Earth Dragon warned.

"Yeah, yeah." The Brazilian dismissed his words flippantly. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'll buy you your video game, _and_ do your chores fer a week, if you can get Miss Tohomiko to kiss _you_." The azure eye twinkled. "However, if ya can't get it done in a week, you're gonna have to do my chores for a month. And that includes cleanin' my boots. And to make sure that you're not pullin' one over my eyes, we've got the Hand of Hiko."

The brunet's eyes lit up in interest. Get Kim to kiss _him_? He smirked, and rubbed his bronze palms together. Piece of cake.

"Clay, my friend, believe it or not, you've just made things a whole lot easier for me. I may not be able to dodge her fists fast enough to plant one on her, but when it comes to charm, man, I can't be beat." His grin stretched wolfishly wide. "You're on."

* * *

**A/N:** So, what do y'all think? Like it so far? The next update will depend on the response from y'all. So please review. :-) 


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Bet

**Part: **2/5

**Fandom:** Xiaolin Showdown.

**Pairing:** Raimundo/Kimiko

**Rating: **PG

**Word Count: **2,396

**Summary/Description:** Clay makes a friendly bet with Raimundo, with interesting conditions and consequences. Kiss stealing, anyone?

**Warning/Spoilers:** No warnings. Takes place early in the show, before they become Wudai Warriors, because, well, that's when I wrote it. So, no spoilers, either.

**A/N: **Thanks for the feedback, guys. :) You all are awesome, and I appreciate it muchly. Here's Part 2. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I'm eighteen, broke, and I write fanfiction. What about any of this, suggests that I, in any way, own _Xiaolin Showdown_?

* * *

_Later that week…_

"Raimundo Pedrosa!!!!!!!"

The shrill, feminine yell pierced through the innate silence of the Xiaolin Temple grounds. Tohomiko Kimiko stomped out of her cubicle, PDA in hand, liquid fire bleeding into her crystalline, cyan eyes. One hand was curled into a fist at her side, and she was just short of snarling. When she found him… ooh, he was gonna get it.

She found him chatting with Dojo at the back of the Temple gardens. The ancient dragon took one look at her face, muttered something unintelligible about having a scroll to guard, and shot off into the foliage.

Raimundo turned to look at her, and, for whatever enigmatic reason, smiled. He was looking pretty laidback for someone who was about to have his head ripped off and shoved up an indelicate part of his anatomy.

"Hey Kim." He grinned, giving her a four-fingered wave in greeting.

She wondered that she didn't spontaneously combust courtesy the torrid heat of her element; she was _that_ mad.

"Don't _'Hey Kim'_ me," she barked, ponytails whipping about her in fury. She thrust the PDA into his face. "Get it off. **_Now_**. If not sooner."

His features contorted into bewilderment. He almost looked innocent.

"Get what off?"

"Don't try to be smart, Rai," she snapped. "It doesn't become you. The _virus_." She cut her eyes at him dangerously. "Are you going to deny that you sent it?"

If Rai had looked confused before, now he was just plain lost.

"Virus?"

She had but a tenuous hold on her temper, and she wasn't at all averse to letting go. She knew her inability to manage her fury was a flaw, but things like self-control and patience were quickly taking backseat as her anger heightened. She waved the handheld electronic in his face.

"Yes, virus. Survey your handiwork. Are you pleased?"

Raimundo pried the PDA from her pale fingers. The screen in its entirety was filled with a tanned face that had mischievous green eyes, and a head full of unruly brown hair. The Brazilian grinned.

"Handsome guy," he remarked.

"Raimundo," she growled in warning, looking positively feral.

He laughed.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his palms in surrender. "I admit it. I sent it. But it's not a virus," he suffixed, handing her back her Personal Digital Assistant.

Kimiko almost forgot to be pissed off; she was that incredulous.

"What do you mean, 'It's not a virus'? Your face is on my screen, Pedrosa. That never bodes well. Come on, I'm not even playing any more. Get. _Th_e. **_Virus_**. **_Off_**. I'm serious. I've got work to do, damn it. "

He leant back against the wall, one brow arched.

"Did you even try to open any applications to see if it was working?"

She blinked at him.

"Well, no… Actually… I found it like this, and immediately…"

"Assumed it was a virus and came over here primed to kick my ass. Really Kim, I'm hurt."

She glowered hotly.

"Don't push it, Pedrosa."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Go on, try it."

She took a seat on the bench, glaring at him. She tapped a button on the PDA, and to her surprise, Raimundo's visage shrank immediately, and resigned itself to a corner of the screen. She glanced up at him, and he was grinning. She scowled.

She went into Messages, planning on checking to see if everything was working optimally. She almost fell of the seat when the face in the top right corner said,

"_Hi Kim, happy texting!"_

A slim black eyebrow arched, and she did not have to look up at him to know that the grin had widened. She typed a quick message to Keiko to make to sure that it would send. When that was confirmed, she then went into Games. The little Raimundo at the top of her screen said,

"_Go get 'em, girl."_

The eyebrow arched higher.

"Go into Camera," Raimundo suggested, scooting closer. After sending him a quick, cautious glance, she did so.

This time, the face in the corner actually gave a rakish grin, before saying,

"_Hey, take a snapshot of yourself; you're looking pretty good."_

It took a while before she was able to snap her jaw closed.

"So you see," Raimundo was saying, "No virus. Just a simple, temporary program."

Kimiko took a few quick breaths – her brain was suddenly deoxygenated – and shook her head around a bit.

"So… No annoying virus?"

"Nope."

She stared at him dubiously.

"Hold on, let me try and get this… I'm still reeling. You sent me a program that says nice things every time I open an application, compliments me, and does not hamper the proper working facilities of my PDA in any way?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, as if that was no big deal in itself.

She peered up at him suspiciously.

"How did you even get access to a program like this?"

He waved his hand dismissively.

"One of my brothers specialises in computer technology; I had him hook me up."

The brunette's eyes narrowed further.

"Okay, but… why?"

He gave another shrug of his shoulders.

"I just figured that it'd be a nice thing to do, seeing that I always send you those pesky viruses. Sorta like an apology."

She regarded him warily, her chagrin withering into candid perplexity. _Apology?_ The word wasn't one that she normally associated with her Brazilian team-mate. She was looking at him as if he had sprouted three heads and was doing the Macarena in a coconut bra and a pink tutu.

"Erm… Okaaaaaay," she ventured, still watching him as if he were about to do something shifty. "Well… um… thanks, I guess."

"No big," he said, almost dismissively. He reached under the bench, grabbed his football, and without preamble, began kicking it up on his ankles and knees expertly. It was as if he'd already forgotten she was there. She felt awkward, unduly so. It was time for her to jet.

"'Kay… well, I'll catch you later, then."

A distracted grunt was all she got in reply.

"Oh, and, erm… sorry about the whole yelling at you thing," Kimiko added, tapping the light pen to the PDA screen nervously.

"No sweat." His eyes never left the ball. He was now rolling it over his shoulders, a look of pointed concentration shadowing his suntanned features.

"'Kay then, bye."

She took off, intermittently throwing bemused glances over her shoulder at Raimundo, who had not ceased practicing. _That_, she reflected, _was decidedly **weird**_. Something was going on here, she just wasn't quite sure what.

Raimundo hid a crafty smirk behind the ball, watching as the Japanese girl retreated. So far, so good.

* * *

_Later that day…_

Clay passed Raimundo in the hallway.

"'Bout two days have passed, partner," he reminded him.

The Brazilian cocked a brow.

"I know, I know. Don't rush me. I'm working on it."

* * *

Kimiko settled herself on the steps of the Temple, taking her PDA out. She needed to take some notes. Keiko and Daddy's birthdays were coming up, and she wanted to make sure she knew exactly what she was going to get them. The fireball of the sun dipped low in the sky, its golden-orange rays providing her with light.

She tapped her way into the Notebook.

"_S'up Kim? Working hard?" _asked the mini-Rai in the corner of her screen.

She giggled a bit. She was actually getting used to the little voice. Raimundo had said it was temporary, but she wouldn't mind having it around on a long-term basis. It wasn't annoying, as one might expect, but sweet, and strangely warm and comforting.

A soft breeze blew, cooling the heated back of her neck, and tickling her face with her hair. She gave a pleasant sough.

She started writing away. Keiko would doubtless want clothes, and the last time the Xiaolin Warriors had been in Spain she'd seen a pretty skirt that would suit her best friend perfectly. And as for her father… Kimiko smiled affectionately to herself. He was truly a child at heart. He'd probably like a videogame. But, then again, what videogame _didn't_ her father have, considering who he was?

She mulled over it, pulling at her lower lip. The wind blew again, more insistently this time, tousling her onyx tresses until the strands flew into her face, into her eyes. She frowned, brushing it away, and went back to work.

It kept up, however, whipping her hair about tenaciously, getting it in her eyes, and twirling her skirt. She growled, frustrated. Why was the wind acting up like that at this time of day? Her cerulean eyes narrowed as she took in her surroundings. Moreover, why wasn't the tapestry at the top of the stairs, or the leaves on that tree over there rustling too? It was almost as if the wind was concentrating… on _her_.

It didn't take her very long to figure it out. She smiled uncertainly.

_What's he up to this time?_

The next time the breeze tugged at her hair, she wasn't very alarmed. She simply cast an eye around, wondering where he was hiding. He didn't deign to show himself. He did, however, think it necessary to ease her hair out of their twin ponytails. She sighed as her obsidian locks began dancing – yes, _dancing_ – on her shoulders. This was quickly losing its amusingness, and progressing into irritating.

The gale picked up, and began ruffling the top of her hair, while simultaneously tickling her with slight twitches of its wraithlike fingers. She grimaced, suppressing a giggle that actually wasn't very pleased, and tried to continue her work. That didn't pan out. The playfulness was distracting, and irksome, no matter how freakishly cute.

Finally, she sighed exasperatedly, and put down the pen.

"Come on out Rai. I know it's you."

By and by, the Brazilian materialised from around the corner, hands tucked into his pockets.

"You called?"

She cut her eyes at him, but couldn't really find it within herself to be angry at him. She touched her sable mane, a tad aggravatedly.

"Cut the innocent act Raimundo. That was you playing with my hair. There's no way a natural wind could have done all of that."

"Playing with your hair? Who, me?" he asked, ingenuousness etched into his register. He shook his rusty head, the unruly strands of his hair whipping about slightly. "Naw, you're mistaken. It was probably just… The wind." A wily grin.

She was about to argue that that was exactly what she was talking about – he _was_ the wind – when he did something distinctly artless, but yet absolutely remarkable.

He _winked_, and ambled around the corner, out of sight.

Kimiko gulped, and put a hand to her chest. Those heart palpitations were the result of… of… er… of… well, something _other_ than the slow, sly flash of that hazy emerald eye. And the flush on her cheeks was due to… due to… well something a _world_ apart from how roguishly handsome he'd looked.

Okay.

_So_.

If the thumping of her heart was any indication, the weirdness scale around here had just indomitably tipped in a foreboding direction.

* * *

That night, in training with Master Fung, Raimundo elbowed Clay in the side.

"Think you might wanna buy _Goo Zombies_ when next you get the chance… just to save yourself some time and trouble." There was no lack of smugness in his intonation.

The Texan only gave him a perfunctory glance.

"Hey, hey now partner. You're corrallin' the horses before you've even branded 'em."

"…Eh?"

* * *

Dinner that night at the square wooden table was a queer affair of sorts, with Kimiko darting suspicious looks at everyone; Raimundo pretending not to see, and instead concentrating on sending triumphant/gloating messages to Clay with his eyes; Omi preoccupied with a bee; Dojo gobbling everything in sight; and Clay chuckling wryly at the dragon's antics and taking no notice of Rai.

Kimiko, still frowning, looked down at her PDA. She was just putting the finishing touches on her notes. After that was finished, she went into Calendar – _"Making a date? How 'bout going out with me?"_ – and jotted a couple of things down for certain days. Presently, she put the handheld electronic away, and looked up. Her hunger was finally catching up on her. She reached for an egg roll.

Her hand grasped air.

"Who ate all the egg rolls?" she asked, a slight pout evident in her voice.

Dojo looked up, vegetables, shrimp and flaky bits of crust decorating his mouth. He grinned sheepishly. She sighed.

"Here, you can have mine," Rai said quickly – a little _too_ quickly. She merely stared blankly at him, trying to figure out his game. Why was he being so nice to her? It was usually Clay who would do the gentlemanly thing like that.

Her mind was made up. He _had_ to be up to something; he was acting too strangely for anything else to be true. It was cute and all, and very nice, and sweet, and funny, and only minimally irritating, – okay, so more than _minimally_ – but in the end, it couldn't be lucrative to anyone but himself.

When she made no move to accept the dish, Rai pushed it towards her.

"Don't worry, I haven't eaten from it or anything," he assured her.

She regarded him vacantly for a few more moments before she took the roll, articulating her thanks. They ate in a sort of edgy silence.

"You know, Rai," Kimiko commented casually, brusquely, "I'm not quite sure what your scheme is, but whatever it is… I'm going to find out eventually."

She cast an eye around the table. The three boys were all studiously avoiding her gaze, Rai coughing and mumbling that she had no idea what she was talking about. Her cobalt eyes narrowed.

"And it doesn't seem like I'm gonna get any help from _you_ all."

Dojo swallowed a large mouthful, dabbing his napkins at the corners of his mouth.

"If it's any consolation, Kimiko, I'm just as clueless as you are," he offered.

The girl smiled thinly, before turning back to her spring roll. In doing so, she missed Rai's uncertain, troubled, almost crestfallen expression, and Clay's slow, wide grin.

* * *

That night, as he was walking to his cubicle, the Westerner bypassed Raimundo's room. He walked very slowly, giving the Brazilian a clear eyeful of his muddy, dirty boots.

* * *

**A/N:** Poor Rai. :D What's gonna be his next course of action? Part 3 is about 1/4 way written. Maybe I'll be able to get it up in about 2 weeks. If any of y'all are familiar with me from the Naruto fandom, you'll know I'm not too good with updates. .

I'm always happy to know what you think!


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